


Make a Winner's Day

by Daiako (Achrya)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, M/M, Magic-Users, Size Difference, Size Kink, Tails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 07:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: Prompto finds out it's Gladio's birthday but, when confronted about it, his lover explains he doesn't celebrate. Prompto thinks some traditions just have to be honored.*Takes place in an AU fic I'm working on for Camp Nanowrimo.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a fic for Gladio's birthday obviously. It takes place in my fic Stand, Climb, and Fall which isn't quite ready for posting here (but can be found on my tumblr if you're curious) Not many spoilers to be found. Gladio is from a race of people descended from giants (Montisians) and Prompto was a human who has become a Felesian (a feline descended race). and Ignis and Noctis, not seen but talked about, are different types of elves. 
> 
> But basically: Porn!

“Again. From the beginning” Gladiolus said, voice hard. Prompto groaned then, as soon as the noise was out of his mouth, cast a nervous glance back at his lover. Who stared down his nose at him flatly. “Something you want to say to me?” 

Prompto shook his head empathetically. “No! Nothing at all, except how great a trainer you are and how much I'm enjoying summoning these knives and missing the target by a mile over and over and over. It's the best.”

It was not the best. He didn't understand why this was so hard when the bow and summoning ammo had come so easily. He was tired, his arms and shoulders were screaming with pain and fatigue, and every time he missed the or failed to recall the knife he wanted to scream. It didn't help that Gladio was on full trainer mode, not bending an inch or giving him any slack. Again, he said, focus, concentrate, feel it, do it again. 

Prompto was ready to give up for the day. 

“How about we eat?” He smiled what he hoped was his most charming smile; it probably wouldn’t get him far, Gladio took training too seriously for that, but it wouldn’t hurt any. “And then gather that stuff you wanted and get back to this later. Or never.”

He didn’t mean that, not really, but he’d never done well with failure and being in front of Gladio while it was happening didn’t help any. The other man was so good at everything, and looked amazing while doing do, and Prompto...wasn’t. He wasn’t even sure why the others were keeping him around and trying to help him out when the gap between what they could do and what he could do seemed so overwhelming. 

Not to mention hopeless to surmount. And now here he was, trying to get out of what he’d been bugging Gladio to help him do since Noctis had suggested he pick up a second weapon. 

Unimpressed didn't begin to cover the look on Gladio's face. He stepped closer, into Prompto’s person space, and slide around to stand behind him. One huge hand came down on his hip and forced him to rotate slightly. The heat from Gladio’s hand seeped through his cotton tunic; his fingers fit themselves against his hip bone and his thumb pressed against the small of his back, easily spanning half his body. Gladio’s body settled against his back, bare chest warm behind his head, and then bent over him to close the gap in height some. An arm fell over his shoulder, crossing over his torso to touch his side and drag him back to lean fully into Gladio’s body. 

Prompto sighed and some of the tension drained out of his muscles and with it a painful tightness he hadn’t fully realized was there. He worked his jaw, chasing away an ache that had bloomed there. 

“I know you're tired, Лучик, but you said you wanted more than just the bow. Ignis gave you the garter but a weapon you can’t use is more dangerous than going without.” Gladio said, voice even and calm, a direct contrast to the tone he'd been using all morning. “So concentrate and make it happen. Not everything will come as easily as the bow but that doesn’t mean you won’t be able to do it.”

Prompto sighed, ears twitching. “You’re so zen sometimes.” 

“...I don’t know what that is.” There was laughter behind the words, fondness that made Prompto’s heart skip. “But I promise if you hit the target and recall smoothly we can stop to eat.” 

Prompto nodded and Gladio stepped away, though not without running his fingers lightly down his spine to the base of his tail. Prompto shivered, ears flattening against his skull at the sound of Gladio’s laughter. He tossed him a glare and was rewarded with a smirk; Gladio knew what he was doing. Jerk. 

But something to complain about later. Preferably in the bedroll, next to the fire, sans some clothing, with Gladio’s- No. He needed to stop that. Fucking Gladio with his big hands and broad body and all those tattoos and scars blazing across his skin, telling the story of his life, and- Ugh! 

He pushed that frustration outwards, used it to reach into the space just outside of himself but also inside of him, that spot that was part him, part Noctis, and part all the Kings of Lucis who’d come before Noct, and pulled hard. His tunic was hiked up, hem on one side tucked up into the belt to give him easier access to the garter fitted around his thigh. He felt the weight of the knife settle into it and grabbed it, fingers conforming to what was swiftly becoming a familiar shape. 

He used a close stance when he used his bow but Gladio had suggested he try starting from a wider one for the knives. He let his dominant leg slide away, settled into it then stepped forward and threw, using that annoyance bubbling in his to push away the soreness in his arm to keep it, and the knife straight and level. 

He felt calmer than he since they’d ridden out from Hammerhead, as if Gladio’s calm had rubbed off. Which was almost laughable because Gladio could be...intense, to say the least of the matter, when he wanted to be. But he had his moments, when he was reading or they were curled up in bed together or, occasionally, when they trained. 

The knife left his fingertips and flew; Prompto was already reaching, yanking the second knife into existence and taking it in hand to send it after the first. 

There was a dull thunk as knife hitting tree, lodged deep into the paper target (barely, it was on the very edge of the outermost ring). Prompto felt a spike of excitement, of accomplishment, but told himself not to let it go to his head. The second knife left his hand and then he pulled at the first, felt power twisting in his gut and blazing painfully over nerves, trying to run away from him, and pushed it back into place. 

The knife shimmered, turned to blue sparks and then it was in his hand. 

The second hit the tree, blade sinking deep about a hand’s width (one of his, not Gladio’s) from the paper. 

Prompto groaned. “Fuck.” Gladio hummed; his arms were crossed over his chest and his head was cocked to the side, eyes dark and mouth pressed into a thin line. “Again?” 

Gladio stared at him, expression flat, then lowered one of his hands. His fingers twisted and the second knife disappeared in another shower of blue sparks; Prompto felt it returning to where he’d pulled it from, settling into what he imagined was a small corner of an endless glowing armory. Gladio’s energy curled around his own, filled him to the brim; it was burning hot, wild and intense, rough around the edges (Noctis was also rough but never wild, always perfectly contained and controlled, where Ignis was a steady stream, cool and trickling slowly.) It fit against his own energy, fed it and soothed and stinging magical circuits he’d forced to come awake for the exercise. 

Heat pooled in Prompto’s stomach and he flushed, looking away. “Stop that.” 

Gladio snorted; his energy receded like the tide, leaving Prompto shaking inside. “Learn to keep me out.” Prompto said nothing. They both knew perfectly well he wouldn’t do any such thing. “Let’s eat, you’ll need it if you’re going to help me gather this stuff for Ignis.” 

They unpacked their lunch quickly, meat, cheese, bread, and some of Ignis’ pickled vegetables, and Prompto plowed through his half shamelessly. He was aware of Gladio watching him, amused, but didn’t let that deter him. More than once he’d heard people outside of their group express awe at how he much he ate, rivaling Noctis most of the time and it had grated at first. He’d tried to tone it down and eat less but that had proven to be a very bad idea. 

Magic took energy and energy needed replenished. Gladio could feed him some but not much and not all the time; the giant needed it just as much as Prompto did. More, maybe. 

“What’re these about?” Prompto asked after, drawing out two small white boxes. Gladio shrugged so Prompto went ahead and opened one. “...it’s cake.” 

Two cakes, as it turned out. Small enough to fit into Gladio’s palm, round and frosted from top to bottom in fluffy pale white frosting, edged along the bottom in pale green waves, and dotted with intricate little piped flowers and vines along the top and sides. It took Propto two hands to take his out of the box, smearing some of the vine work in the process. They were beautiful and much nicer than what Ignis usually sent along as dessert (fruit, the occasional sweet bread, slices of basic loaf cakes)

“Oh.” Gladio deadpanned as he held his up to look it over. “Right. I suppose it’s my birthday. Again.” 

He didn’t look partiqularly moved and, Prompto thought, maybe even a little annoyed. Which put them on the same level because what the hell, he hadn’t known it was Gladio’s birthday and, what the hell was doing out here in the woods playing trainer and planning to pick reagents for Ignis on his fucking birthday. Clearly the occasion was meant to be marked, if the cake was any sign, so. What was going on. 

“It’s your birthday? You could have told me.” He frowned. “We could have stayed at the inn you know? We didn’t have to do this today.” 

“I didn’t realize.” Gladio waved a hand dismissively. “I’d rather be doing this. Montisians don’t celebrate birthdays and if not for Iggy and Noct insisting on doing things I’d forget about it.” 

Prompto gaped at him. He’d forget his own birthday? Prompto had been a functional shut in for two years and even he had managed to clean up and pretend to be normal so his family could come by and celebrate with him. 

“What do you mean don’t celebrate? Like. All of you? Seriously?” 

Gladio nodded. “Yes. It’s...we don’t think it’s important to count. We are children and then we are adults and, eventually, we will die. What is the point in keeping track of how long it takes for it to happen.” 

Prompto frowned. “Way to make birthdays depressing.” 

That earned him an affectionate look. “We do find them to be pretty morbid. ...do you want to hear the story of why?”

Prompto was tempted to say no, all of the stories his friends told kind of made him want to curl into a tiny ball and cry at the best of times, but...this was about birthdays. How bad could it be? He nodded. 

“The story is a little different for each tribe but the basics are always the same.” Gladio ran his fingers over his arms, brushing against the feathers inked there. “There was a woman, a human woman, who dwelled in the northern mountains like my people do now but instead of deferring to the animal spirits she and her people also worshipped the giants who lived at the very peaks of the mountains, hidden by the clouds. And this woman so loved the giants that instead of communing with a spirit and taking that form she learned to stretch her body, to grow and grow until she’d taken on the form of a giantess and learned to hold it. She went to the peak, lived among the giants, and found a husband.” 

Gladio looked up at him, amber eyes growing softer. “And she loved him completely, wanted nothing more than to stay at his side. They conceived a child and all seemed to be well but, when it came time to give birth, the woman’s giantess form was lost and her deception revealed. Her husband didn’t care, loving her for who she was and not for her form, but the giants who lead the tribe wanted her banished and the strange runt child she bore, scarcely bigger than a human babe, destroyed. The giant took his family in hand and, in defiance, ran from all he knew, and hid away. He thought they would live there together, happily, forever but before long more giants came.” 

Prompto frowned. “Does this story have a happy ending? Because so far all of the stories you three tell end in death and people getting fucked by destiny.” 

“Listen without talking for a change of pace.” Gladio scolded lightly. “I’m almost done. The giants who came were not there to kill them but to live with them, finding their story and love inspiring. With time came humans who had heard the same tale and soon there was a village of humans who could take on giant form at the base of a mountain where the giants who loved them lived. Maybe children were born and those were the first Montisians. But Giants are from the same age as elves, dragons, and the oracles. They live long lives and the time of humans, and of Montisians, is short to them. Montisians may live for 400 cycles but what does mean when Giants live for thousands and the humans they came from only for 60 or so? 

“So the giants left the world to return to their own above the clouds, heartbroken as their lovers and children withered and died, and the children they left behind decided that marking one's birth every cycle was something they wouldn’t do.” He picked up the small, carefully decorated cake, swiping a finger through the fluffy icing flower on top. “Why chase after the knowledge that time is running out? You know I was about this big when I met Igis and Noct.” He gestured with his hand to indicate the height of a child. “And they were the same as they are now. They’ll be the same long after I’m gone.” 

Prompto looked down at his own cake, a shiver running up his spine and something heavy settling in his stomach, and sighed. “So no birthdays.” 

“No birthdays.” Gladio agreed, smiling faintly. “But we can still eat the cake.”

Prompto didn’t feel much like eating cake anymore. He eased it back into the box and wiped his hand on the edge of the blanket. Then, looking up at the other through his lashes, couldn’t help but ask: “What about Felesians? How long do we live?” 

Gladio’s face did something complicated, running through emotions rapidly. Then his expression smoothed out. “Long enough.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means what it means.” Gladio shrugged. 

Prompto scowled but Gladio was unaffected, he popped his finger in his mouth, humming appreciatively as he slowly sucked the frosting from it. Prompto watched that thick finger move deeper into Gladio’s mouth, past his lips, then begin to drag out slowly, the tip of Gladio’s tongue visible and stroking along the bottom of the digit. His cock twitched in interest and his tail curled towards him to press against his bare leg; Gladio could be a master of distraction when he was so inclined, and never said more than he intended to. 

He clearly didn’t intend to say anymore on this matter and it was best to just let it go. Long enough would have to do for now and, a part of Prompto was willing to admit, maybe that was all the answer he wanted. Long enough could be enough, couldn’t it? 

Prompto looked down at his cake again, an idea sparking as his mind settled, accepting Gladio’s answer. Maybe he was in the mood for dessert after all and just because Gladio didn’t want to do anything for his birthday didn’t mean Prompto couldn’t make it a little more fun than usual, right? 

Gladio’s finger came free of his mouth with a soft slurp. “Don’t even think it. Iggy’s cake is not a sex toy.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Pretty sure.” Gladio dragged his finger over the top of the cake again, gathering more frosting. 

Prompto leaned forward, dropping to his hands and knees and started to crawl across the blanket towards Gladio, who suddenly looked a good deal less sure than he had a moment ago. His tail flicked back and forth behind him and there were Gladio’s eyes, following the motion like he always tried to pretend he didn’t. 

Prompto stopped just short of making physical contact and, blinking sweetly, leaned up far enough to suck Gladio’s finger into his mouth. The frosting was sweet and tart, some kind of citrus flavor, and light against his tongue. Prompto curled his tongue around the thick digit, gathering up most of it to swallow down; Gladio’s eyes were very round and his lips parted. Prompto swirled his tongue slowly around the finger, cleaning up everything he could and moaning out his pleasure. 

It was really good. Ignis had, as usual, outdone himself. The salty taste of Gladio’s skin added to it, made the sweetness deeper and the tart citrus sharper. He dropped his head, dragging his lips all the way down to meet Gladio’s palm, then hollowed out his cheeks and pulled back, sucking the digit. 

When he let the finger drop from his mouth, completely clean, Gladio breathed out his name almost revrently. It was almost enough to make him feel bad when he smiled up at him and dragged his tongue over his lips. 

Almost.

“If you’re sure.” He pushed himself up, shrugging. “We should clean up and get on finding all that stuff Ignis wants. It’s a long list and we don’t want to get caught outside of the haven at night.” 

Gladio’s sour expression didn’t fade until long after they’d started gathering the herbs and fungi Ignis wanted. 

\---

Prompto had a plan. It didn’t involve frosting or cake, as they polished the rest of that off when they stopped around mid-afternoon. What it did involve was, when they stopped for the evening and Gladio went to set up traps around the haven in hopes of catching something to eat in the morning, getting everything ready, including himself. He set up camp, laying out the bedrolls and stashing a bottle of oil under Gladio’s, then went to wash in the pleasantly warm river, the heat of the day having not yet faded from the shallows. 

After that he went back to the camp and sat down to stretch and oil himself. There was some temptation there to go quickly, to be sure he was ready when Gladio got back, but his fingers were much smaller than his lovers and Gladio’s cock was...considerable. And sometimes he liked the burn and the near pain that came from going fast and other times he wanted he wanted it slow and easy, to feel nothing but Gladio. 

Besides, Gladio had taken his bag with him so he would probably go to the river as well before coming back to camp. That gave him more time. 

So he took it slow, laid on his side with one leg bent up near his chest and worked his fingers deep into his body, applying oil liberally. His other hand held his tail, fingers massaging around the base and then stroking up to tug at it lightly as he rocked back on his fingers. His cock filled swiftly, the dual sensations filling his stomach with twisting heat, and he was mewling and dripping precum by the time he had eased a fourth finger inside. 

He had to give Gladio credit where it was due: as a guy who’d never slept with a Felesian before and had ended up with one who’d formerly been a human as a lover, the giant had made it a point to make sure they both knew the ins and outs of Prompto’s body. Where to touch, what felt best, how much pressure to use, when to tug and when to pet, what touches caused pain and which ones made him come shaking and begging for more. 

He was four fingers deep, spreading them as he thrust them inside, when he heard Gladio’s quiet inhale. He opened his eyes, and found he couldn’t remember when he’d shut them, to find the giant on the edge of the clearing they’d made camp in. He was wearing nothing but his loose sleep pants and boots, bag hanging limply from his fingers. Gladio was watching him with blown wide amber eyes, gaze raking over him. He could just imagine how he looked to him, leg bent up, slippery fingers moving back and forth, oil clinging to his ass and thighs, tail being stroked and played with. 

He moaned shamelessly as he drove his fingers inside of himself again and let his eyes drop to half mast. He rolled his hips, thrust down onto his fingers, and pressed against his prostate. His cock jumped, more precum dribbling from the tip. 

“Prompto-” 

“Sit.” He murmured, fingers wiggling against his slick inner walls. Gladio was quick to obey, walking over and dropping down onto the end of the bedroll closest to the fire. “Get yourself hard for me.” 

Gladio’s breath stopped, stuttered and then he was reaching a hand into his pants to draw out his cock. He was already halfway there and didn’t hesitate to begin touching himself, fist dragging over his length quickly. Prompto watched, tongue feeling thick in his mouth, as Gladio’s length grew, flushing red under the tan of his skin as it filled with blood. The foreskin was worked back, revealing the slick head and the entirety of silver hoop curving under the head. The giant’s eyes stayed on him, dark and intense in the flickering of the firelight. 

Prompto eased his fingers free of his body and sat up, deeming the other man ready. He crawled to Gladio, much as he had earlier, but this time he climbed into his lap. He wrapped his hand around the giant’s cock, smiling when it jerked in his grasp and pumped up and down, slicking it with the oil still on his hands. 

Gladio sighed, eyelids drooping, and ducked down to close the gap between them. It was lessened by Gladio sitting down, as a lot of his height was in his legs, but kissing still took a little work. Prompto stayed still long enough for Gladio to lick into his mouth, to suck and lick at the thick muscle, positioning himself above the giant’s cock as he did. 

Then he pulled away and pushed himself down. It pushed past his stretched rim easily, the metal of the hoop a touch cooler that Gladio’s cock as it rubbed against sensitized nerves, and then he began to rock up and down, sinking a bit further onto the hard length each time. He couldn’t say he was used to it, there was always a moment of surprise at how wide Gladio stretched him as he took him in and at how hot the giant was inside of him, but it wasn’t the absolute shock and struggle the first few times had been. 

It helped that Gladio knew his body better and was grasping his tail before he’d bottomed out. Prompto mouth dropped open as broad fingers dragged along the base of his tail, rubbing firmly at where skin and tail met. It was nice when he did it, felt damn good, but when Gladio did it...it was something else completely; pulled all the tension out of his body, helped him open up for everything Gladio had to offer, and sent warm waves of pleasure straight to his dick. 

He half suspected he could get off just having his tail and ears played with. 

He slammed himself down hard, breathy moan echoed from above, and clenched around the giant’s cock. He didn’t move for a minute, just breathing hard and trying to catch his breath around the feeling of Gladio buried in him, so hot and heavy and deep. He felt him throbbing inside of him, knew if he looked down he’d see the telltale impression of Gladio’s cock in his stomach, and shut his eyes to resist the temptation. 

He still wasn’t sure if he creeped him out or was a near instant orgasm. A little of both, probably.

Gladio’s hand curled around the back of his head, fingers rubbing through his hair. Lips pressed to the tip of one of his ears. “Лучик.” The pet name was rasped into his ear, asking so many things all at one. 

Prompto nodded, eyes cracking open, and forced his shaking thighs to help push him up; his body clung to Gladio, tried to keep him inside and when he came down again, this time meeting Gladio’s hips as they rose up and then grinding down when their bodies were flush together, the giant’s cock seemed to penetrate him deeper. It took a little bit to get the rhythm just right, to meet each other on every downward motion, but once they did it was as amazing as it always was. Delicious friction, Gladio’s cock hitting him just right inside, near constant pressure against his prostate and the smooth slide of the ring making things just a little more snug, giving another point of sensation. Prompto saw stars, tipped his head back and moaned at the night sky, and clung tightly to Gladio’s arms. 

Gladio’s hand slipped over his sweaty skin, held onto his hip tightly, and helped him bounce up then dragged him down. The other stayed on his tail, stroking and tugging. The heat built between them and soon their bodies were meeting with wet smacks of skin against skin and slick squishes of oil leaking over their skin. Prompto mewled and twisted, swiveling his hips when Gladio was in to the hilt before allowing himself to be guided back up.  

His cock was trapped between their bodies, rubbing against Gladio’s abs and painting sticky paths, just enough that even without more contact he felt his orgasm rushing up on him. The pace changed, became rapid shallow bounces and hard rolls of Gladio’s hips. Prompto gasped, body jolted under the force of Gladio fucking up into him, and closed his eyes into a grimace. Another push at the base of his tail and he was coming apart, spraying his release between their bodies in strong pulses. 

Gladio thrust up into his convulsing body harder, chasing his own orgasm as he shook and moaned, drug out everything he was feeling and didn’t let him come down. He moved against the sensitive gland inside of him and nibbled at the tip of his ear, sending sparks of electricity through his blood. He could do nothing but hold on and quake until, finally, Gladio was filling him with his cum and hunching over him, panting into his hair. 

They slowed and stopped, clinging to each other as their bodies began to cool down. Gladio’s hand stroked his back, fingers drifting along his spine. Prompto sighed and mumbled against his chest. 

“I hope birthday sex is okay.” 

Gladio’s bark of surprised laughter vibrated through his chest. Another kiss was pressed to his hair. “I think I can add it to the list of okay things, with the cake.” 

  
  



End file.
